Memory of the Spider
by Lilypad18
Summary: Annabeth tells her son, Chase, why she's so scared of spiders


"Chase!" Annabeth called for her son. "Come help me unload the dishwasher!" She tilted her head as she heard the annoyed groan emanating from her fifteen year olds bedroom, which was just down the hall from the kitchen. Her ears also picked up Sophia's inappropriate snickering floating out from her room. She saw her son give his sister a face through her doorway.

Chase took his time as he made his way down the hall; Annabeth pursed her lips at his childish reaction to her request. She found that her hands automatically rested on her hips, her weight shifting to one foot. Chase immediately recognized her stance: it was her, "I'm fed up with your behavior" stance.

He quickly walked over to the open dishwasher.

Annabeth smiled once her son started to unload it, carefully placing them in the patient cabinets above their heads. Annabeth decided to join in with her son's odd rhythm of filling up the dishes in the cabinets. However, when her eyes floated to the counter as she stood up, she nearly dropped the trio of shiny, white plates to the ground.

"Spider," Chase heard his mother hurriedly murmur, her scared stare directly on the small, black object that rebelliously lingered on the marble counter. Chase was now the one who pursed his lips at her foolish reaction.

"Mom, it's just a spider." He frankly stated, even if he was trying to calm her down. However, his comforting fact didn't help her one bit. She was still locked in her frightened position, her knuckles white because of how tightly she held them. In fact, they nearly matched the pallor of the dishes.

"You...you don't understand, Chase." Her voice deteriorated to barely a whisper, "You have to kill it. Now." Chase swore he saw that she hadn't moved yet, she was in a frozen state of fear. To him, her lips were the only things that could move. Chase rolled his eyes as he grabbed a napkin from the dinner table.

"Isn't this supposed to be the other way around? You know, you kill the insect while I freak out?" His question was rhetorical, but playful, his hand aimed for the eerily still spider. His mother didn't respond to his attempt at a joke.

Before Chase knew it, he saw a slight wave of water trickle towards the spider; it easily enveloped the arachnid in its pre made watery grave. The spider squirmed in its droplet with protest at its sudden movement. The water disappeared from sight, and the two could hear the water funneling down the drain, taking the spider with it.

Annabeth unfroze, her shoulders falling with relief. She placed the dishes back down on the counter before hugging herself as she leaned back on the counter. Her gaze was low; she mainly focused on the floor.

Chase's head snapped over his shoulder because he only knew that one other person could do that trick in this household; he saw that his dad was standing in the doorway. Altogether, he looked tired, but mostly concerned at the past scene he just witnessed. Chase knew this look, even if it was almost rare: his Dad usually became concerned with things that bothered him, but only when his mother was in danger would he look this distressed. Once Chase and Percy's eyes met, an understanding passed in between them, Percy strode towards his mother.

Chase watched as his father gently laid his hands on her mother's shoulders as he quietly spoke to her. Her eyes met his, but she only nodded in response to his question, her lips unmoving. Percy sighed and placed a kiss on her forehead, inaudibly telling her that everything was going to be fine. And even though Chase strained, he thought he saw a smile of finality tug at his mother's lips.

Even though Chase understood that it was late, and certainly past his bedtime, he knew exactly where to find his mother.

He cursed silently to himself because the lights in the hall were off, so he had to make his journey slow through the territory of the dominant darkness. His feet picked up the feeling of the rough carpet as it changed to the cold, laminate floor. Already he knew that he was close to his destination.

He blinked a couple of times at the somewhat blinding light, even if it was small, as he stood in the doorway of his mother's concealed office. He smirked at the sight of her as he crossed his arms over his chest: she was bent over her architect's desk, eagerly studying the screen of the silver laptop that was the main prize of the room. Chase swore that she studied something new every day; he always heard her zealously talking about it with his father as they cleaned up the dinner table.

Chase let out a sigh; it was full of juvenile frustration because of his lack of knowledge on the subject.

"Chase," Annabeth's voice sounded tired, but it was nonetheless overlapping with warning. "You should be in bed." Chase's arms fell in slight alarm at his mother's dangerous tone, but he smirked as a comeback appeared in his head.

"Mom," He said, walking over to her, the edges of his overly large pajama pants scuffing against the carpet. "You should be too." He saw his mother smirk as well, and he knew that she didn't take his response as back talk. It was merely midnight chatter; they were both too tired to care.

Annabeth let out a sigh as she looked at the screen of her beloved laptop once more before shutting it down. Her swivel chair squeaked as she turned to face her child.

"I really wish it was that easy," She absently but truthfully commented, her eyes falling to her knees. Chase's eyebrows furrowed at her sentence.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Annabeth gave her son an uncertain, but scarred look. Somehow, Chase understood. "It's the spider that's keeping you up, isn't it?" Even though Annabeth winced at his poor choice of his wording, a small smile appeared in front of him. Chase could tell that this smile preferably traveled with nostalgia as the motivator.

"You sound so much like Percy," She mused, but she still didn't look up to meet her son's curious gaze. Chase pulled up a hidden chair and turned it around so he could straddle it.

"Mom," He started, and Annabeth automatically looked up at the use of her family nickname. Chase was glad that he finally caught her skittered attention. "Why are you so afraid of spiders?" Annabeth bit her lip before letting out a sigh of complication.

"Do you know the story of Arachnae and Athena?"

"Of course I do," Chase gave her an incredulous look. "It's one of Soph's favorite myths. She's told me it at least, like, ten times." Annabeth's mask of seriousness melted away at the mention of her diligent daughter.

"Right," She nodded. "With me being the daughter of Athena and all, spiders and I...well, we don't mix." Chase snorted.

"Yeah, like I couldn't tell, mom. You were more frozen than the snowman we built last week." Annabeth chuckled at her son's joke, even if it was slightly making fun of her.

"I know I was. I remember Percy told me that when we were at that closed amusement park back when we were eleven." She sighed, and Chase saw that she got that faraway look in her eyes. "Well, if I recall correctly, we were eleven. It was such a long time ago, even if it seems like it just happened yesterday." That's when Chase saw her mother's face begin to soften with some sadness, the curves over her lips turning down in a hybrid of a pout and a frown. Like his father, Chase was immediately concerned.

"Hey, hey," He reached over and placed a hand on her arm. She covered it up with her own, it was surprisingly warm. "Do you wanna tell me about it?" Annabeth's eyes flickered up to his, and even though she didn't have the chance to physically smile, her eyes did the job for it.

"Where should I even begin?"


End file.
